


Because We Love You

by mthevlamister, TheIcyMage



Series: Suffer [2]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Expensive pins and patches, Prequel, Retrospect is a cruel mistress, Rich's dad is terrible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-22 02:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12471008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mthevlamister/pseuds/mthevlamister, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIcyMage/pseuds/TheIcyMage
Summary: Nobody had ever brought it up, but Richard Goranski never texted anybody. Sure, he had a device that he used to communicate with, but that device was a second generation iPod touch and a messaging app. Mobile services were too much of a hassle. Kind of like him before the Squip, he thought with a humorless laugh. No, Rich Goranski did not text people.Tucked securely in a corner of his room's closet, Rich typed, “Hi, Jakey,” on a burner phone and pressed send. Then he unlocked his iPod, slipped on the pair of headphones that Michael had given him, and he let himself slip into the symphonies of the Halo soundtrack and his thoughts.





	Because We Love You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mthevlamister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mthevlamister/gifts).



Nobody had ever brought it up, but Richard Goranski never texted anybody. Sure, he had a device that he used to communicate with, but that device was a second generation iPod touch and a messaging app. Mobile services were too much of a hassle. Kind of like him before the Squip, he thought with a humorless laugh. No, Rich Goranski did not text people.

Tucked securely in a corner of his room's closet, Rich typed, “Hi, Jakey,” on a burner phone and pressed send. Then he unlocked his iPod, slipped on the pair of headphones that Michael had given him, and he let himself slip into the symphonies of the Halo soundtrack and his thoughts.

“Why did God punish me with kids?”

The question wasn't the first thing William Goranski had said when he stumbled into his house that evening, but it was the one that made Rich consider sneaking into his room.

“These pathetic kids have ruined my pathetic life.” He continued. “I should just run away and change my name and when someone asks me if I want kids, I'll say, 'Fuck, no! I don't want to do that to myself. Not in this life! Not in my next! I'm not making that mistake!' I can't even enjoy a good fuck without having a food and money gobbling monster sprouting out of the bitch months later. Damn woman was so weak. Almost as weak as you are for running away from me upstairs.” He turned to glare at Rich and added, “Are you weak, Dick?”

Rich gulped, “Of course not, Pop.”

“Damn right. Now go make yourself useful and grab me a beer. And where's dinner? Do I have to do everything around here?”

 

Rich scrambled to get his dad a beer and debated going with a frozen meal or actually cooking. The former would be faster but his dad would mock him for not actually cooking. The latter depended on if they had ingredients for a recipe he knew. He opened the fridge and sighed. Save for the box of pale ale, it was empty. Chicken bakes and frozen vegetables it was!

One uncomfortable dinner peppered with sexist comments later, and Rich was almost free. He just had to do the dishes. Tired of the comments his dad has been making, he popped in some ear buds and browsed YouTube for something to do the dishes to. The C Team seemed promising. Acquisitions Incorporated had been fogged from his memories and he didn't want to start over that DND podcast just yet, so the spin-off sounded like a good compromise.

It was muffled and he was almost blissfully lost in the character introductions, but he could make out some comment about his generation being attached to the screens. Something about them being too worthless to contribute to the real world. Don't make eye contact. He's still at the couch. DO NOT ENGAGE.

Back when he had a Squip, it would block out his hearing, replace it with music or mantras depending on what Rich needed, and would feed him dialogue. It had been nice to go so long without bruises from, “tripping,” or from feeling so small. (Pun intended.) Sure, he had been a di...jerk because of it, but there were advantages to... No! Don't listen to that voice. Listen to Jerry Holkins guide four Penny Arcade-associated players through a journey to join an adventuring industry. Where were they? It sounded like the dark elf character met one of the others. He'd have to go back. Quickly, he tapped back a few times, but now he felt more lost. Suppressing a sigh, he pulled his iPod out of his pocket and began to drag his finger along the screen.

The minute his hands stopped scrubbing dishes, his dad perked up.

“Hey! Are you listening to me! I thought not. So rude and ungrateful. I didn't bust my ass so you could waste your time playing.”

It wasn't a phone, but why argue. There. Settle for wherever in the video he had landed on and go back to cleaning the dishes. Finish and get the hell out. He didn't have a car, but Jake could give him a ride. Better message him and...

The yelling got louder. His was coming closer. Nothing physical yet, just words. Words could be blocked out with other words. Sure he would have hearing problems when he got old, but that was a future Rich problem if he lived that long. For now, he put the volume full blast. One more. Just the oven sheet and he'd be done. Be productive. Be useful. Be fast. Don't give him any more reason to...

His dad was upon him just as he rinsed off the last of the soap suds.

“GOOD!” His dad roared, “YOU WON'T BE NEEDING THOSE STUPID THINGS. HAND IT OVER SO I CAN SHOVE IT UP YOUR-”

Rich ran. He opened the door to the back yard and scrambled to the fence to the front. He could steal some neighbor's wifi to contact Jake. As he ran, he just sent the word, “help!” over Facebook. The loading circle came up and at the top of his screen the v-shaped funnel of bars disappeared. Of course he'd figured out how to turn off the router. Not holding back his frustration, he tossed the device over the fence and tried to climb after it. He rose, but not with his arms or legs.

Stupid! Why did he run? Why did he run to the back yard? Why couldn't his short limbs take him farther. Why, why, why. Did he mention how easy it was to live with a jerk in your brain when it helped you avoid a worse menace in the real world. How about how nice it was to be able to turn off pain receptors. How sweet would it be to get a new Squip? He never would, but it was nice to think of something else at the moment.

Several visible and invisible wounds later, Rich was in his closet with the iPod he'd retrieved when he lost his dad and dashed to his room. The door was locked and barricaded and he had modified the closet door to be stuck closed. For a pillow, he had stuffed his backpack with clothes, some books, and anything soft or squishy he owned.

The wifi was still down and he was in the mood for the headphones and as far as he was concerned, the ear buds were not worth retrieving. The only light came on when Rich opened his burner phone to check for a response. “OMW <3”

It was simple, but Rich was thankful for each character of the text and each piece of comfort he had on him. The music was painstakingly downloaded and purchased from several places by Jake and the headphones were picked by Michael. He burrowed himself in their gifts and waited.

The song faded out and a hollow, kind of airy background noise came on. There was a clatter, and suddenly a chord plucked on a ukulele. Weird. He'd never heard that before.

“R, is for a heart that's rough and tough,” The voice was wavering, but sweet and familiar.

“I, Is for incredible, invincible, irresistible.” A second, lower voice. It came out soft and airy, like a whisper.

“C is for how close to you we want to be,” Both voices sang. They wove around each other in harmony.

“H, if for how much we love you. How hard it is when you're gone. How you keep us moving along.” They alternated starting, but came together before each pause.

“How you made us write this song,” The deeper voice bounced, something coy to it. Challenging him to argue that he was worth being sung about.

“How you need to know you're strong.” Michael's voice rang confident.

“And if anyone makes you like you are nothing,”

“Well they know nothing,”

“’Cause you mean something,”

“You mean everything,”

“To us.”

“Rich...aaaard.”

“Rich.aaaaard.”

“Rich aaaaard,”

“Rich a a ard Goranski.”

“Rich a a ar Goraaaanski.”

“We love you.” Michael and Jake sang together.

There was a noise of a recording being cut off, then a new track playing. Said track was them screaming their excitement of singing the song right and Jake stealing Michale's ukulele.

“Wait, don't swing it! Jaaaakeeee! No! Give it back.”

And a clatter. It sounded like they fell off of Michael's bed.

Rich grinned as that recording cut out as well. Then he went to the previous track and set it to loop. He rested on the backpack he had thrown together and closed his eyes. This was his tower and until his knights in hoodie armor came to rescue him from the fierce dragon, he could relax.

Several loops later, his phone pinged with the message, “Here!”

 

Rich quickly grabbed his backpack and slipped the phone inside. He undid the makeshift lock on his closed door and stepped out. Aside from some papers knocked over, his barricade was still relatively untouched. Maybe his dad had given up and passed out. He wasn't staying to find out.

There was a knock at his window, “Your knight has arrived, fair prince,” Jake cooed with a wink. Well, in the streetlights he couldn't make out much, but the wink was assumed.

“And the king?” Rich asked as he opened the window, pushed aside the mesh screen, and took his boyfriend’s hand.

“Preparing the festivities for the return of our kingdom's prince. There will be a battle of the bands and heroes of guitars.”

“Thoundth lit as fuck!”

Jake laughed and held out his arms for Rich to be carried bridal style.

“Are you going to jump.”

“Maybe...”

“Jakey, no! Printh demands you not break thine legth.”

“Would be worth it for you. I'd break my legs, arms, heart. Hell, I'd die for you.”

“I'd die for you, too, Jakey. And for Michael! But I can climb down jutht fine.”

Jake took Rich's hand instead and kissed it. “As you wish.”

They both made a point of being cautious. The lights were all off. His dad was asleep. Good. Rich knew that he and Jake would fight if necessary, but he was relieved that it wasn't necessary. Then Jake's words clicked, “Did you quote fucking Printheth Bride.”

“That movie about true love, witty banter, awesome fighting, and timeless comedy? Inconceivable!”

“I don't think you know what that word meanth.”

As Jake drove, he hooked Rich's iPod to a portable speaker. The sweet ukulele chords blasted out of the device.

“I see you found our gift.”

“You fucking preemptively serenaded me, escorted me out of my thitty houth, and thet up Guitar Hero.”

“And I've got cookies waiting,” Michael added from Jake's phone speaker

“Mell's also got cookies waiting.”

It was worth the wait. Not just the cookies or the games, but everything.

“You know what?” Jake asked as they rearranged the floor of Michael’s basement to hold three makeshift beds.

“What?” Rich and Michael asked,

“We should kidnap Rich.”

“I’m in!” Rich cheered

“Um, could you word that differently?”

“Let’s sneak to his house, shove all his stuff in boxes, and move him somewhere.”

“I am 100 perthent for thith plan.”

Michael held out a finger before spinning on his socked heels and pulling out three blankets.

“Thath not a no,” Rich sang

Michael hummed and dug deeper into his closet.

“Fine!” Michael called, “On two conditions. One: We call it relocating. When we tell this story to our kids, we are not encouraging them to kidnap their partners. That’s insane.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Jake nodded, even though Michael couldn’t see him.

“And two: we move Rich here. My parents are barely here and Jake practically lives here already. Besides, we can get you out of there in one night and your dad doesn’t know about me so he won’t think to look for you here.”

Michael could hear shuffling, but no answer. “Rich? Are you okay with that.”

There was a clatter. Michael jerked his head out of the closet to find Rich looming over a cardboard box. His backpack hung upside down from his fingertips. He gave it a shake and a squishy toy and small phone landed inside irh box. Rich looked up at Michael and grinned, “You thaid we could do thith in one night. Leth thart right now.”

Michael shook his head and pulled out some suitcases and overnight bags.

“His dad is asleep,” Jake added as he grabbed the biggest baggage, “We could go right now.”

“Theal my thuff! Theal my thuff!” Rich chanted.

“I’m dating a pair of maniacs,” Michael laughed as he grabbed a luggage and followed them out of his house.

“Where did you get the time to write and record that?” Rich asked. For all the excitement of what they were about to do, his song was playing again and Rich realized that he had yet to thank them. Now seemed like a good time.  “How did you even thneak that thong in? When? Why?”

“Did you see the song title?” Michael asked excitedly

“Hang on,” Rich turned on his iPod and found the song title.

“Why?” He choked out in a laugh-moan hybrid

 

The title held the answer.

“Because We Love You.”

**Author's Note:**

> Should I mention this is a prequel?


End file.
